


Sυrρrιςe!

by orphan_account



Category: Christmas myth
Genre: Anal Sex, Belly Kink, Denial, Farting, Humiliation, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2019-02-22 08:25:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13163091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Just some kinky stuff. Becoming Santa is not an easy task...





	1. Chapter 1

Have you ever wondered about Santa? Big old man in the sky, throwing the gifts at people, one day per year? I never did. To me it was just granted ; on the night between the 24th and 25th of december you'd get presents, whoever you were, wherever you came from. You'd have a huge meal before that and another one afterwards, and everybody was happy.

I know that in your universe, Santa is not real. You still celebrate Christmas, but you make or buy the presents yourself. I admire that. Lucky us, we don't have to bother.

Well, in my case, I might have to bother soon. Let me rewind a bit.

I always thought Santa was some kind of god. He was immortal, he was as powerful as he needed to be, or else how could he provide absolutely every house with the right amount of gifts? How to get everyone what they wanted?

Turns out I was wrong. Very wrong.

It was the 25th of december 2017. I had just stuffed myself like there was no tomorrow. Adding to my defense, the meal was delicious. I had walked outside for a bit, to enjoy the fresh air and release a bit of gas without everyone complaining, when two women in suits walked towards me. They wore sunglasses ; they were tall and muscular. They grabbed me before I could even say "pudding" and I was brought into a plane, where the situation was explained to me.

Turns out there isn't only one Santa ; random humans who have about the right type are selected to do the job for ten ყears or so. In the plane I met who I quickly understood to have been the previous Santa ; and I quickly understood Եჩat I would have to replace him.

"But that's impossible!" I complained. "Firstly I'm barely fourty, I'm sure that's not old enough. And I'm not fat!"

The previous Santa (I later learned that his name was Dennis) snorted. He was everything that you could expect from a Santa. The white hair and beard, little round glasses, red cheeks...

Still, I figured he'd look a bit nicer. Also I didn't expect him to be shirtless. He was truly enormous, his gut flourishing with a sea of white hair. He got up with some efforts, still grinning, and pointed a finger at my own belly.

"Oh, you're old enough my dear, and sorry to say this, but you are fat. Not fat enough, but that can be helped! Don't worry, we'll take care of everything"

"What ιբ Ι δon't want to?"

They didn't answer. I was placed onto a chair, tied up, and they forced me to eat for two hours straight, though I had been full before. Once the task done, they dumped me back where they found me, where I rejoined my family and laid in bed, in pain from the extra stuffing.

From then on they did their best to catch me when I expected them the least, stuffing me until I begged for them to stop.

I thought I could beat them to their game by doing a bit of sport to lose the weight. What I didn't realize, was that even without their sessions, with the eating habits I had taken, I would get fat anyway. And my lazy attempts at sport wouldn't have made much of a difference anyway.

I found myself in complete denial of all the weight I was gaining, even though my belly was swelling at a dangerous speed. It quickly became hard to put my clothes on, but I refused to buy new ones. It would have meant accepting the fact that I was getting fat.

I didn't button my shirts, there were holes in my underwear, but I would always pretend it was normal.

After four months I had crossed some line between 'fat' and 'obese'. Everyone around me was trying to drop hints about my condition but I refused to listen. I was wearing nothing but underwear at this point, because nothing else would fit. One morning, my wife joined me for breakfast, as I was devouring a giant rainbow cake all by myself.

"Hello dear... I've been trying to reach out to you lately, but you don't seem to hear me..."

"Mmmf!" Was all I could mutter, my mouth being too full.

"You have really been getting bigger lately, even though you won't admit it. Don't you think it's time to react? Buy some bigger clothes at least..."

"I'm not fat!" I replied angrily. "I can't be fat, I exercise!"

"Come on dear, we've been through this. Stop eating please, you've already had enough."

"Course not. I could eat a whole meal, right now, because my belly is far from being full. And if I'm still hungry, I can't be overeating!"

And to prove my point I started eating some more, fishing ice cream and more cake from the dephts of the fridge. I ate it like a pig, covering my face with cream. I felt my underwear crack.

"What the hell! Why won't you listen to me?" My wife shouted angrily.

"I am... Mmpf... listening... glomps... to you! Look!"

My underwear broke at this instant, and I was suddenly naked. In the awkward silence that resulted, I farted rather loudly.

My wife left the room without another word, having completly lost patience. This is when Dennis/previous Santa came into the room, grinning like the devil. He looked less fat than last time I'd seen him. His hair and beard had been cut neatly. He pushed an actual tray of burgers and fried.

I felt so embarrassed about him seing me naked, I almost fainted. He laughed and took his clothes off too.

"Ha! You're a funny one. You'll make a perfect Santa, I'm sure! C'mon now, open wide."

"Oh boy..."

***

Summer passed me by, and with it my excuses for walking around in my swim wear, since nothing else would fit. I had to face it and buy some bigger clothes. My wife and I divorced mid-september, and I ate even more, in order to cope with my grief. 

At this point, I was fat enough not to need the feeding sessions, but Dennis kept doing them anyway. I think he enjoyed it greatly. He was getting less fat each time I saw him, which made me even more embarrassed than before.

Around october, it was time to embark for the north pole. The gifts weren't going to make themselves, even though I had more than enough elves. I had to supervise, read the letters, give directions. It was not as bad as it seemed, however. I kept getting bigger, even though Dennis could rarely come to stuff me, since I was always busy. But the place was too cosy, and the cooking too delicious for me to resist.

Dennis came for the last time mid-december. The gifts were mostly ready by then, and I finally had some free time. He had changed so much since the first time I saw him. You couldn't tell he had been Santa once. His hair had been but neatly, and he shaved regularly. He was still slightly chubby, but it would go away in no time. I had reached some limits I didn't know any body could reach. Not only my gut was as big as a beach ball, but my ass had expanded too, along with my arms and legs who now looked like pieces of ham. I probably had about three chins, even though my beard covered most of them. I couldn't get dressed by myself, and had to ask a few elves to dress me up every morning.

Dennis tied me to a chair, as he always did. He fed me considerable amounts of food. I used to hate those sessions, but now I ate about everything I was given without complaining. It was getting boring, to be honest. It made Dennis really angry, which I found secretly enjoyable.

But suddenly we were interrupted. It was the two women in suits. I wondered who hired them, and what was their role in all of this, exactly.

"Dennis, we told you to stop this already, didn't we? He is beyond fat enough for the role. I'm afraid he won't even fit in the Santa outfit, now!"

"Shut up... shut up! Leave me alone?"

I giggled.

"What's that, you're gonna miss me? Ha, maybe I'll miss you too... you made me laugh!"

He slapped me, and then tried to fit a whole cake into my mouth. THe two women grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back. I watched him leave with an amused expression, and ate the cake while some elve was untying me.

"My my, what a waste..."

 

To be continued.


	2. The delivery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The big day has arrived! 'Big' indeed.

I had just woken up, and was looking at myself into the mirror.

So that was it? The Santa Claus look? I didn't know I could pull it that well. I'm supposed that's why I was hired... well, more like captured, in the first place.

I'm kind of a modern Santa, I think. My hair and beard are white as snow, but still shorter than the original version. I'm... quite handsome, for my age, I think.

Until I lwer my eyes anyway, and meet my gut. It's so huge, it actually feels like a beach ball. So round too. An almost perfect shape, sprinkled with a delicate streak of white hair.

Why is it white anyway? I'm not even fifty! I guess I will never know.

My ass has rounded considerably too, as it seems, and my moobs could compete with lady's. My arms and legs have probably doubled in size, and I was already fat before.

I take the red outfit from my drawer, and struggle to put it on. It's incredibly tight, but the pants fit. The suit... not as much. I can button it, but my belly button is clearly out. 

Well then, why would I care? I'm Santa, not like I'm gonna see anybody, and my elves have seen far worse already. As for the cold, you can bet the thick layer of fat will be more efficient than any coat to protect me from it.

I look at my watch. It's ten AM. I'm supposed to start the delivery today, but it starts during the night. What will I do with my day? Everything is packed and ready.

 

Without even realizing it, I find myself in the kitchen. How did this happen. There appears to be bread and jam. Actual French baguette and jam with real fruits. Where does it come from? I guess it's Christmas for everybody.

I eat a reasonable breakfast, and then... another one, and another one, and suddenly it's the evening already. Feeling rather full, I go outside, thinking that at least there's no way I can go hungry during my delivery.

As I sit on the sleigh, I feel an overwhelming need to masturbate. Why didn't I think of doing it during the day? I had so much time on my hands. And I'm so full too. I try to massage my belly, but we're already at the first house.

 

So, if there's a detail I forgot, it's that children usually leave food for good ol' Santa, as a thanks for the gifts. That's nice an' all but I can't eat anything, my stomach won't take it! But then, the children will think I despise their gift. It's cookies, probably hand-made. They look delicious. I'll take one, just to show I care...

Man, it's really good. Actually, let's eat them all!

 

It's been ten houses, and i finally remember a piece of advice Dennis have me a while back. "Do not eat on the delivery day. Leave the house on an empty stomach, or you'll never make it". And that idiot forgot to mention why exactly I should do that. Simple. Every fucking child had something for me. Cookies, brownies, milk, oranges, chocolates, even a roast chicken in the last one. So far I've managed to not leave anything behind, but there's so many of them! There's no way I can eat it all...

Or, is there not? I've been trained at stuffing myself all year, and I'm pretty sure being Santa gives me special abilities. After all, every Santa had to do this before me, right? If they hadn't eaten the treats, the children would have stopped giving any.

 

I enter what must be the thousandth house in my tour. I feel dizzy from the overeating. My belly is a monster that keeps growing and growing. Hopefully most of the chimneys are ridiculously wide, but at this rate, I wonder if I'll even be able to fit through the doors.

These one left a cake for me. I put it all in my mouth and chew uncomfortably. If they knew all the pain I endure for them... stupid kids!

And yet, it feels strangely good. I couldn't explain why, I enjoy the stuffing feeling, how heavy my body gets.

As I walk outside and sit on the sleigh with a loud grunt, I hear my vest rip. I throw it away with an annoyed glance. It was barely big enough to cover my moobs. I'll just go shirtless from now on! Who care if anyone sees me. I've got the presents and that's all they would see.

 

I've gotten considerably slower when I reached America. I've gotten so fat that it's actually very hard to even get up. I can't reach my belly button with my fingers. But there's not much left, I just have to be thorough... I can do this.

My pants are completly ripped, as you could guess. However my underwear kept together, which is honestly incredyble. It's kinda useless, since it barely covers the back of my gigantic butt, but I'm technically dressed, so that's probably fine. However it's so streched that it's a real pain on my penis, which is compressed hard underneath the fabric. I sit on a chair in the house I'm in and try to reach it, but I've just gotten too fat for this. And yet I want, I need to cum right now, or I feel like I'm gonna explode!

But I got a mission, of course, and I might as well follow it.

I put a hand on the table and try to lift myself upwards. I release about ten consecutive farts, all so loud that I wonder if I'm not gonna wake up anybody. Hopefully there's no sound coming from upstairs.

At any rate, I've been farting for about a thousand houses. There's just too much gas in my body and I can't keep it in, no matter how hard I try. I go back outside. The reindeers look somewhat impatient. Of course I'm slow, I have to carry myself and that's pretty heavy. My belly is still round, probably from the overstuffing, and th way it hangs in the air feels almost supernatural. Hopefully my butt has grown to match it, otherwise I couldn't stand upright.

 

I think I have arrived at the last house. I have now become so fat that I'm as large as I'm tall. I suppose anyway, since it's hard to see. I'm not in the best position to judge my size, and my moobs hide most of the view. What I can say is that my belly falls down so far that it covers the front of my legs.

My underwear has finally cracked a few houses ago and I'm now completly naked. But it's okay because my belly hides my penis completly, so there's no way I can be obscene! Well, people could still see my butt, but it has gotten so large at any rate... I don't think any clothes could cover it.

I somehow sqeeze into the door, feeling my love handles and hips pressing against the wall. I drop the presents more than I place them under the tree, and eat the last bit of food that is left for me. My belly makes a lot of noise, probably from the intense digestion that it has to suffer from. I am still farting, but at such a speed that I barely notice it anymore.

Suddenly, I see a light at the window. Sunrise. Already? Damn, I have to leave this house as soon as possible.

The door is not far, but I walk so slowly now that I might not reach it in time. And I'm naked! And even if the sleigh is still outside, I don't have the Santa Claus outfit anymore. For all these people know, I'm just an overly fat stranger who barged into their house to steal all their food!

They're coming. They're nothing I can do but bend down and enter the chimney. I feel like I'm nothing but a ball at this point. My back, belly, sides, everything touches the walls. Even if it's stupidly large for a chimney. So I start climbing out, thinking that I can just summon the reindeers once I'm on the roof.

 

Too be continued.


End file.
